


Atonement, Part 4

by elfin



Series: Atonement [4]
Category: Flatliners (1990)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 05:07:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12291903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfin/pseuds/elfin
Summary: Sunday





	Atonement, Part 4

I slept on my bed again, next to Nelson. He’d kicked off some of the blankets, not all of them, but it was a good sign that his body was able to maintain its core temperature. He woke twice, the first time denying the nightmare despite the sweat on his forehead and the frantic pattern of his breathing. We’d disconnected the ECG and I’d helped him get rid of the electrodes stuck to his chest, ripping out dark little hairs at the same time. I don’t think the pinpricks of pain even registered amongst all the other injuries. 

The second time he talked me in broken whispers, telling me he kept seeing Billy standing over him in the dark, hockey stick in his hands, terrible satisfaction on his face at the terror and damage he was inflicting. I wanted to comfort him but I didn’t know how. It had been easy to touch him while he’d been out of his mind with fear, too wiped out to do anything for himself, reliant on us to help him. But he was more himself with every passing hour and that Nelson wasn’t as tactile. 

I knew he’d want out of bed Sunday morning. 

‘I need to go to his place, pick up some clothes for him.’

Steckle nodded. ‘We’ll watch him.’ I don’t know why I hesitated. They’re as fond of him as I am, in their own way. And I think Rachel was at a place where she wouldn’t let anyone lay a finger on him if she could help it. ‘Dave, he’s safe with us.’

I nodded. ‘I know.’

‘So go.’

I was shooed out of my own place. If I was being honest it was good to take a break, although letting Nelson out of my sight was hard. his apartment is further from campus than mine, on the third floor of what used to be a popular hotel back in the 50s but was redeveloped in the early eighties. Sometimes you can still smell the paint. He bought it with the money he made selling his parents’ house in Maine after they were both killed in a car accident, the same funding he’s using to put himself through med school. I don’t know much about his childhood, I didn’t know about Billy or Stoneham. But I remember him saying they didn’t leave a will, they didn’t intentionally leave everything to him, he was just their next of kin.

The door rattled when I closed it behind me. I turned and found myself staring at the additional locks which hadn’t been there last time I’d visited. Nelson trying to keep Billy out, presumably. It was then that the reality of the attacks hit me. Joe and I had hallucinations, I’d convinced myself of that. Rachel too, I thought, until she told us she’d hugged her dead Dad. But Nelson… he had injuries, evidence of physical contact. Like Steckle said, that was impossible, and after the incident in the jeep outside Winnie’s house I’d let myself believe Nelson had inflicted those injuries on himself without knowing it. But there was a hockey stick lying on the polished floor of the bedroom with smears of blood on it, and no way did Nelson bash in his own head with that. There was blood on the floor, on the white bedsheets, and in the sink in the bathroom, presumably from when he’d stitched the wound beside his left eye. 

I’d been so angry when he’d finally admitted Billy was stalking him, angry he’d kept it to himself while I flatlined, while Rachel did. I wasn’t surprised, not really, that he’d wanted me with him in whatever darkness he was experiencing. I was that he’d let Rachel go. That was a serious case of jealousy but not of me, of her. I’d been blind. I couldn’t feel that anger now, any of it. How can anyone have been expected to think straight when the moment he closed his eyes he was under threat of violent and brutal attack? I just wished, at the end, he’d trusted us with his death as well as his life.  
   
His glasses were next to his bed. I folded them and found his toothbrush, change of underwear, jeans, white T-shirt and a navy blue wool jumper that looked too large for him but warm. There was a half-empty pack of cigarettes on the cabinet by the door and I grabbed those too. I’d been gone long enough, I needed to get back.

*

There was a the wonderful smell of food when I pushed open the door to my apartment, and the sounds of my friends chatting, making lunch. I felt better in an instant. Steckle waved at me from the kitchen doorway and pointed towards the bedroom, mouthing, ‘he’s awake.’ Walking through, I found Nelson sitting up in bed.

‘Hey.’ Suddenly I was wondering how he’d feel about me being in his apartment, after two days of vulnerability I had no idea how was going to react to me at all. ‘I… got you some clothes. And your glasses.’

To my relief, he just looked grateful. ‘Thank you.’

‘How are you feeling?’

‘Sore.’ I knew it was a serious understatement. He looked like he’d been in a boxing match and hadn’t fought back.

‘Yeah. Sorry about my part in that.’

‘You have to stop apologising for saving my sorry ass.’

‘You can apologise later for making me have to.’

He smiled, and for a minute it was like the last week had never happened. We were friends. We argued with one another, we yelled at one another, but we could always discuss a theory over a beer or three. That’s how we got into this mess in the first place.  

‘Can I take a shower?’

‘It’s probably a good idea.’  
   
I tried not to hover outside the bathroom. Steckle eyed me a couple of times, handing me a mug of coffee while again reassuring me that Nelson was fine.

‘I did the checks before you got back – his temperature’s normal, oxygen levels are normal, heartbeat’s strong and steady. BP’s high but he isn’t slurring, his eyes are tracking…. He’s one lucky son-of-a-bitch.’ We were all lucky.

‘If he’d died….’ I kept thinking about it. I couldn’t help it. 

‘He didn’t. Well, he did. But he’s here with us and that’s what’s important.’

Rachel roped me into helping with lunch, so that I wasn’t outside the bathroom door when Nelson finished, but instead I saw him across the little kitchen, hair sticking up in all directions, the sleeves of the too-large navy sweater falling over his hands, unsure of himself for the first time since I’d known him.

Thank Christ for Steckle telling him to ‘sit down before you fall down,’ or I might have hugged him and the embarrassment might have killed us both.

There seemed to be more food on the table than had ever been in my apartment: soup, bread, cheesy snacks for Steckle, a fresh salad and fruit. Joe’s continuing mission to track down all the women on his tapes was the main topic of conversation. Nelson was quiet but not withdrawn, finished off a bowl of soup, smiled and laughed with the others. For the most part I watched him, looking for any sign of delayed reaction, shock, any distress at all. Steckle was right, he seemed fine. But he was good at hiding anything else.

After lunch, Joe and I cleared up while Rachel found an old black and white movie on television. Dishes done, Joe prepared to head out again to visit numbers seven and eight, both off campus. I assured him I was capable of looking after Nelson, that he should go home afterwards, sleep in his own bed before he and Steckle went into school tomorrow to face the consequences of running out of class after Rachel on Friday. He told me to call him if I needed anything, told him he’d call tomorrow evening whatever happened. I gave Steckle the same reassurance when he came through to see what was going on, just before Joe left. He looked at me like he knew what I was up to, but apart from asking if I was sure I was okay, he made the same promise Joe had – he’d call tomorrow – and made me swear I’d let them know if anything seemed wrong. Anything at all.  
   
Rachel was ensconced in the armchair, watching the movie. Nelson was stretched out on my couch, watching me. In the last week I’d bought three of my friends back from the dead, one of them twice, I’d driven two hours out of town to apologise to a woman I barely knew and hadn’t thought about in over a decade and I’d been forced to confront the idea that a memory could take physical form. Why was facing my feelings for my best friend so hard?  
   
Not facing them had lead to me abandoning him Friday evening, handing him off to Joe and Steckle, and thoughts of Friday at least got me moving. Crossing to the couch, I lifted his feet and dropped into the corner, setting them in my lap. He smiled at me across the space between us and as I wondered about the changes wrought in him I realised this was the reason for those changes. He had nothing to be jealous of anymore. His left arm was tucked between his legs and the back of the couch and pulse racing, I reached out, my movement hidden by his body, and laced my fingers with his inside the ridiculously long sleeve of his sweater. I’d never seen him wearing it before today and it stuck me it might have once belonged to someone else. The strength of my own jealousy surprised me but after everything we’d been through, I suppose it shouldn’t have done.  
   
When the movie finished, Rachel turned to look at us, and I knew by the smile on her face that she saw what the other two hadn’t. ‘I’m gonna go.’  
   
Nelson lifted his feet, let go of my fingers, but otherwise stayed where he was. I got to my feet but I wasn’t about to stop her leaving. ‘Rachel….’  
   
‘It’s fine. Honestly. Deep down I knew.’ She grasped my hands for a moment, then looked over at Nelson. ‘I love you both.’  
   
‘Call me in the morning?’  
   
‘Promise.’  
   
After she’d gone, I leaned back against the door and knew it was time to face the present head on. Nelson glanced at me and sighed. ‘I really need a cigarette.’  
   
‘Lucky I brought some from your place this morning.’  
   
There are no windowsills immediately accessible in my place, except the one in the bathroom. But there’s a fire escape at the end of the hall. We climbed out, sat side by side on the cold metal grate and he lit up.

For half the cigarette we sat in silence, but it was an easy silence, a comfortable one. I wanted to give him space, let him fill it only if he wanted to.

‘Billy was the weak kid.’ He said it out loud. ‘The rest of us… we were monsters. I was a monster. I bullied him, terrorised him, just because I could, because his fear made me feel stronger. It was a Saturday. We’d been playing in this field with Champ, my dog. We saw Billy and went after him. We chased him to an outcrop, this bunch of trees surrounded by rocks. We circled around so he had nowhere to go. So he went upwards, climbed this one tree that kept bending with his weight. I threw a rock and he put his hand up to protect himself, lost his grip and fell. I can still hear the branches snapping as he hit them. One big one fell on Champ, broke his back. Billy died when he hit the ground.

My father disowned me and I was sent to Stoneham. I was nine. After I left, I got three jobs to put myself through college. Then the accident….’ He stubbed the cigarette out on the metal rung next to his feet, resting his forearms on his knees, wringing his hands together. ‘Like Winnie taunting you on the subway, I think Billy wanted me to know what I’d put him through, to experience it all; the pain and the fear. I’m sorry about what I said, that evening before….’

‘Before you killed yourself.’

‘I wasn’t trying to kill myself. I mean… I couldn’t see any other way to tell him I was sorry.’

‘Did it work? Do you think… Billy forgave you?’

It was a relief when he nodded. ‘When I went under again, I was in that tree instead of him. He was the one throwing rocks. I was the one who fell. I can remember it… like images from a dream.’

‘You were brain dead.’ I can’t shake the memory of finding him, of the incessant alarm from the ECG, Rachel running in. Nine minutes. ‘You were dead and I couldn’t get you back.’

He surprised me then by dropping his head to rest against my shoulder. I couldn’t help myself. I dropped a kiss into his hair, smelling my own shampoo on him, something my depleted, stressed out body still found very very sexy.

‘You did bring me back,’ he lifted his head and I turned to look at him, ‘even after I’d been a complete bastard to you, to all of them.’

‘I know you. I can tell when you’re being a real bastard and when you’re just lashing out.’ Friday night, Rachel had started it. She’d been the one to start the bidding war too, that first night when Nelson was recovering in the jeep. Not for the first time I wondered about the history between them, but it wasn’t the time or place to ask. 

‘You didn’t deserve that.’

The way he was looking at me, the intensity in his gaze, was going straight to my dick. It has no sense of timing. ’I have thick skin.’ His half-smile was the final straw and my hand rose without without conscious thought to touch the side of his face. A couple of days’ stubble made his cheek rough, but his mouth, when it touched mine with absolutely no confidence, was so soft.

I hummed softly, pushed my fingers into his clean hair and made sure he was completely sure of his welcome, felt his hand clutching at my shoulder and eased back, resting my forehead against his.

‘Always wondered how that would feel,’ he murmured. He sounded like it hadn’t been a disappointment. I didn’t know what to say, couldn’t find the words. I ran my fingers over his head, over his face, tracing some of his cuts with the lightest of touches, feeling him shiver.

‘I want to touch you everywhere,’ I finally managed, barely a whisper but loud enough for him to hear me.

‘And I will willingly let you, but I’m not sure how much you’ll get in return at the moment. There’s not much in reserve, if you know what I mean.’ I did. I was rock hard but I’d bet he was still soft. ‘I don’t want you to be insulted. Believe me, I do want this.’

‘I know. It’s okay. My timing sucks but I promise I’ll make it up to you.’

He laughed softly. ‘Jesus, Dave. I subject you to a waking nightmare and you’re apologising to me? What do I have to make you angry?’

‘You cheat on me, I’ll chop your balls off and make it look like an accident.’ It was good to laugh, good to have him so close I could feel it. ‘I love you, Nelson. Try to remember that, okay? I’m here for you, as long as you don’t hold the important stuff back from me..’

It was a minute or so before he spoke again, and I wondered how long it had been since someone had told him he was loved. 

‘I think you know the worst now. Stoneham… not the best years of my life. But I was a hard kid. I fought back.’ To think about him growing up like that wasn’t easy. I used to think Nelson didn’t need anyone or anything. We were friends, yeah, but he always kept a part of himself hidden, private, wrapped up tight from the rest of the world. He was raw at the moment, exposed, I should have been concerned about taking advantage of that while at the same time I knew that was exactly what I was doing, getting a foothold while I could. 

I felt him shiver under my hand and I could have kicked myself. Should have done. ‘Seriously, I’m going to make a terrible doctor.’ Tucking my feet under me, I rose up, pulling him up with me. ‘I should be taking care of you.’

‘I’m fine, David.’ But he leaned heavily against me for a moment. 

‘You know the possible side effects of what you went through as well as I do. I need to keep you calm, warm and above all monitored. I can’t do any of that out here.’

‘Not true. Smoking keeps me calm. And I think you’d notice if I stopped breathing.’

I was sceptical about the smoking thing, but I kept it to myself. It was only as I followed him back down the hall that I noticed he was limping. Actually, that’s not true. He’d been limping Friday morning, when he’d come over, too scared to remain alone at his place. I hadn’t given it much thought then, my attention drawn to his face which was a canvas of cuts and bruises. Still is. 

‘What happened to your leg?’

Typically, he dismissed it. ‘It’s just bruised. It’s fine. Ask Joe and Steckle, I left them standing Friday night.’ Yeah, and adrenaline will do wonders for masking injury and pain. He turned in the doorway of my apartment. ‘I’m fine, Dave.’

Despite his claims, he practically collapsed onto the couch. I grabbed a couple of blankets off my bed and dumped them over him. He grouched about them, but pulled them around himself anyway. 

‘I’ll fix us a drink.’

He caught my hand before I could turn away. ’I wanted to tell you Friday afternoon but I was so freaked out after the attack in the jeep… I thought you were very… brave, going to apologise to Winnie Hicks.’

Hearing him say it, I felt suddenly cold. I realised he’d been right in what he’d said when he’d turned on us. The very thing he’d apologised for out on the fire escape. I should have been the one apologising. ‘It’s my fault, isn’t it? I told you to find Billy. You were just following my lead.’

‘No. David, that’s not…. It’s not your fault, any of it. It’s mine, it rests with me. It was my crazy idea, I dragged you all into my nightmare because I was too scared and too cowardly to face it alone. Then, when I couldn’t deal with it any longer, I did something stupid and reckless and put all your futures in danger.’

‘You wouldn’t have had the chance if I’d been brave and stayed with you, but instead I ran away, chose to deal with Rachel, thought Steckle could take better care of you than I could. I’d already left you alone long enough for Billy to stab you with a pickaxe….’

He squeezed my hand. ‘You came back for me. You all did. I don’t deserve any of you but you, Dave, I deserve you least of all. You said you…. love me. But I don’t understand why.’ 

That was a conversation I wasn’t ready to have. I leaned down, kissed the top of his head and said, ‘Let me fix us a drink.’ I am such a fucking coward.

What I really wanted was a whisky but I made a couple of mugs of hot chocolate. This was a different Nelson to the one I’d been obsessing over for the last three years. Not better, not worse, just different. I was sure the old Nelson was still in there, that he’d be back soon enough. I needed to be on the inside of his defences when he started rebuilding them.

He was flicking through television channels with the sound turned off when I set the mugs on the table and nudged him up so I could sit in the corner behind him. Somehow I managed to get him to settle with his back against my chest, head against my shoulder, my arms wrapped carefully around him, mindful of his cracked ribs. I got one hand inside the layers of clothing and blankets and placed my palm over his heart, careful not to press on the healing bruises and burns. He winced but held my hand in place.

‘It’s still beating. Thanks to you.’

‘I have a vested interest in keeping it that way.’

‘So do I, I promise you.’

‘If anything happens, anything weird at all, you have to tell me.’

He nodded and I felt it when he finally relaxed, let me take his weight. I woke a couple of hours later, the drinks gone cold, the television still showing late night movies only watched by shift workers, insomniacs and alcoholics. I knew a couple of fellow students who were huge fans of films just like this one. Nelson was sleeping against me, almost silent but I could feel the rise and fall of his chest, the slow beat of his heart against my hand, hot now against his skin. My legs had gone to sleep too, but I didn’t care. I wriggled my toes to get the blood flowing.

The movement woke Nelson. He shifted against me, momentarily stabbed me in the chest with his shoulder, muttered an apology then kissed me. I got my hands on him, warm and pliant, giving into the need to touch. When he lifted his head I suggested we moved to the bedroom, no expectations, no pressure, just because we’d both be more comfortable. Not that sitting like that with him couldn’t quickly become one my favourite ways to spend our downtime.

We crawled onto the bed, Nelson moving into my arms, but the intensity from the lounge had ebbed back again, he looked utterly exhausted and settled over me, closing his eyes with a murmured apology. There was time. There was plenty of time.


End file.
